


White Christmas

by FeuillesMortes



Series: Of Roses Red and White [3]
Category: The White Princess (TV), Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England - Thomas Penn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeuillesMortes/pseuds/FeuillesMortes
Summary: Arthur Tudor's First Snow.





	White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis the season! Here’s some tooth-rotting fluff to celebrate this time of the year. 
> 
> Happy Holidays, everyone!

She was dozing off, head resting on Henry’s shoulder, arms carefully holding Arthur, when she was woken up with a start. The [warning beep](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Ffreesound.org%2Fpeople%2Fkwahmah_02%2Fsounds%2F267703%2F&t=OGYyZWQyYjk1MjdkNDcwOTI1YWEyNDllMGE1Nzc4ZTM3OGRkYjIyOSxnQUkyYTJURg%3D%3D&b=t%3AUDoomVeQaO-aRRinS0UQZw&p=http%3A%2F%2Ffeuillesmortes.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F168622705412%2Fmodern-au-arthur-tudors-first-snow-tis-the&m=1) ringed loudly as the doors of the tube train swung open.

_PLEASE MIND THE GAP BETWEEN THE TRAIN AND THE PLATFORM. THIS IS HYDE PARK CORNER. THE NEXT STATION IS KNIGHTSBRIDGE. MIND THE GAP._

Henry shook her leg to get her up. “Quick, Lizzie. This is us.”

She rushed to balance Arthur between arm and hip, shaking her sleepiness off so they could dash through the carriage doors. Lizzie had gotten little to no sleep the night before, but then, every parent of a 15-month-old would say the same.

“So is this our mystery destination?” She raised an eyebrow at her husband. “Hyde Park?”

Henry was all seriousness as he adjusted the strap of the baby bag he was carrying on one shoulder. “Maybe.”

“You know I’ve lived in London my whole life, right? Hyde Parker at this time of the year can only mean one thing…” She watched as a muscle in Henry’s jaw twitched, his face trying hard to stay neutral. Neither wanted to be the first one to simply give in and break into a smile, but it was of no use. A chuckle escaped Henry like an irrepressible hiccup.

“Winter Wonderland!” They exclaimed, erupting in song.

 _♪♪ Sleigh bells riiiinnng… Are you listening? In the laaaane… Snow is glistening. A beautiful siiight! We’re happy toniiight! Walking in a winter wonderlaaannd ♪♪_  

Lizzie sang and Henry hummed along as they climbed the station stairs. They both shared a passion for classic Christmas songs.

Baby Arthur wiggled his arms to the music, gifting his parents with a scarcely toothed smile. Lizzie squeezed her baby boy and nuzzled the little pug nose she so dearly loved. He was such a beautiful boy. “Did you hear that, baby? We’re going to Winter Wonderland! Your first Christmas market!” 

She shot a sideways glance at Henry. “I just wish you had told me before. We would’ve come prepared, wouldn’t we Arthur?” She fixed his little hat. The weather was especially chilly that day. At least her baby looked festive enough with his pair of reindeer shoes on.

“You mean you would’ve come with that hideous Christmas jumper. So no, I don’t regret a thing. I still don’t want to die of secondhand embarrassment.”

“That jumper is not hideous, Henry! Say what you will, I know you like it tacky too. Or will you deny that you loved that Christmas scarf I knitted for you last year?” 

He offered her a wolfish smile. “You mean, this one?” He unzipped the collar of his jacket to show the red scarf decorated with roses and hollies galore.

“Oh, you’re wearing it now?!” Lizzie was struck and grinned like a fool. 

“But of course, darling. Do you think I would miss this most excellent chance to show off my wife’s abilities? Not bloody likely, no.”

“I love you.” The words fled her like a flock of birds. 

It had not always been easy saying that aloud. God knew her marriage with Henry wasn’t a bed of roses. He was often moody, and awfully stubborn at times. Yet, saying those words came easier and easier for her. And she meant them, each time more strongly.

Henry gave her a sheepish smile. He drew her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know, love. I know.”

The market was packed with people as dusk set in. Merry crowds enjoyed the fair to the sound of bands playing their favourite Christmas songs. Neon signs complete with strings of fairy lights at every corner made Arthur lively with glee. The baby had his mouth slightly ajar, soaking in that festive bright world that opened up to him like an early Christmas present.

They went to plenty of fun fair rides, rode the famous Giant Wheel that provided a spectacular view of the city’s skyline, but it still wasn’t enough for Arthur. He was restless in his mother’s arms as they waited in a queue for the fair games. Lizzie put him on the ground, holding him by the arms to help him stand. 

“They say it’s going to snow later tonight.” She casually brought up, watching the baby delight himself by picking dead leaves off the ground. “How magical would that be? Arthur’s first time seeing snow.” 

Henry shot her a skeptical look. “Pff. It’s snowing, sure. And I am the King of England.”

“You don’t believe it?”

“Hardly.”

Lizzie bent down to help Arthur with his waddling. “Well, I can’t say I’m really surprised. You never believe anything. Unless, of course, it’s a conspiracy theory. Then you’re all ears.” Lizzie looked back at him and smirked. “After all, what even is a weather forecast compared to the Pope as a chinese spy?”

The hint of a smile danced at his lips. “Check and mate*.”

She took the opportunity to tease him, faking that peculiar accent that was a mixture of all the places he had lived before. “Oh, the HIV virus was created in a laboratory? But it all makes sense now, of course! See, the Illuminati must have created it to take over the world!”

He crossed his arms and squinted his eyes at her. “Are you suggesting, wife, that I might be paranoid?”

“I am  _telling_ you, husband, that you  _are._ ”

“Hmm you’re probably right.” He rubbed his chin, muttering his avowal more to himself than to her ears. “Anyways, London hasn’t seen snow since when? 2008?”

“Not that long.” She let Arthur go hug his father’s legs. He was babbling ‘dodo’, the particular term he used for his father. “I think our last snowstorm was… 2013. Yeah, probably that year.”

Henry bent down to pick up the baby. “Well, I, for one, believe in climate change. Right, Arthur?” He starting rocking his son, earning a fit of giggles. “I doubt it will snow today, but if does, mark my words: it will be those sleazy drops of freezing rain that barely reach the ground before they melt. Anything else is pure wishful thinking, love.” He kissed her cheek. “Just admit it already, will you?”

“We’ll see.” She sent a silent prayer to the skies as the queue moved forwards.  _Just some snowflakes would be perfect!_

Their turn at the Rudolph Hoopla had come. It was a simple enough game to let Arthur play: he only needed to throw the given hoops at Rudolph’s antlers. The higher the hook, the better the prize. Of course baby Arthur failed spectacularly at the game, but his parents cheered him on like a real champion. Lizzie was the one to teach him to clap, and as Arthur showed his prowess, Henry grinned from ear to ear. Arthur’s cleverness was something that he particularly boasted about at work.

Henry wouldn’t let his son leave without a prize, so he bought him a stuffed toy. “A dragon?” Lizzie questioned his choice as if she didn’t know why Henry was buying that particular animal. Knowing how much of a Tolkien fan her husband was, Lizzie knew it was only a matter of time until Henry starting reading The Hobbit to baby Arthur. Henry had already bought an illustrated edition of the book, even though it would still take years for Arthur to understand a thing about the story. 

They left the stall with Henry looking properly chuffed about his son, the stuffed dragon and everything else.

“Excuse me, would you like to try our eggnog?” Lizzie was asked as they left Santa Land, an elaborately decorated Christmas grotto. Arthur had just gotten his first picture with Santa and now Henry had their son perched on his shoulders, the baby playing with his dragon as if it were flying.

Lizzie looked at the tantalising creamy beverage extended at her direction and made a motion to accept it, but Henry stepped in.

“No, thank you. She’s lactose intolerant.”

Lizzie was heartbroken as she watched her rich (and probably delicious) eggnog being taken away. She turned back to her husband with accusing eyes. “Henry! Why? You know I’m not lactose intolerant.”

“Yes… But you’re still breastfeeding.”

“Neither is Arthur for that matter!”

“Right. But remember what the GP said about too much dairy in a toddler’s diet. ”

To hear Henry talking of their son, one could think he was raising the Prince of Wales. He had great plans for Arthur: he would go to Cambridge (not Oxford, mind you) and become one of the most successful young leaders of his generation. Henry even played Mozart while the baby slept in hopes of turning him into a prodigy. Lizzie found his efforts endearing, but everything should have a limit.

“For God’s sake, Henry! I’m mad now.” Earlier Henry had stopped her from having a gingerbread biscuit. “I  _know_ just how much dairy I can eat in a day. You’ve crossed the line here.”

Henry looked so contrite he had the face of a scolded child. He cheerlessly brought Arthur to the ground. “I’m sorry…”

“No. You’ll have to make it up to me now.”

“Mulled wine?” He suggested, eyebrows raising and eyes eager. 

She sighed. It was not like she was going to stay cross with him for long. “Alright…” His face instantly lit up. “But be quick about it.”

He left her to go to one of the multiple themed bars around the market. Lizzie sat down on a bench with Arthur on her lap and for a minute or two all was well. Then the baby starting fussing. Arthur didn’t want to play with his dragon, he didn’t accept Lizzie’s cooing. He kept shaking his head at her words and crying. Lizzie didn’t understand — she knew he wasn’t hungry: he had eaten his apple puree not long ago and she had breastfed him before they left for the park. She checked his diaper and nothing.

Arthur had always been a fairly easy baby. Peaceful and clever, Lizzie knew she had a better time with her son than most young mothers her age could say. She had always wondered if he took that from Henry’s side. She imagined her husband as a disciplined child, maybe even as a baby too.The thought made her smile fondly as it usually did. 

She pulled out the minion toy she kept hidden in her own purse and gave it to Arthur (Henry just absolutely hated minions, she could not place it inside the baby bag). Despite her best efforts, he still kept crying. She didn’t know what else she could do. Arthur usually loved minions!

“Hey, give him here.” Henry was back with two steaming mugs of mulled wine.  “And get that disgusting thing away from my son. No wonder why he’s crying.” He placed the mugs on the bench to take Arthur in his arms. “Hey there, champ. There, there. The ugly minion is gone.”

Arthur stopped crying and started smiling instead. Henry rocked him up and down to make him giggle. “Aaaand now we’re talking. That’s my boy.”

Lizzie felt a sting of jealousy pierce her heart. “I can’t believe he was crying because you weren’t here!”

“Well, Lizzie. He  _is_  my son after all.” Henry swelled with pride as he gave the baby back to Lizzie. “Sorry, darling. I don’t make the rules.” 

“It’s not fair! Children should like their mums better. It should be law.” Lizzie did most of the parenting work. When Henry arrived home he could just relax and play the easy role. No, it definitely wasn’t fair.

Henry moved the mugs and sat down by her side. “We’ll have others. One of them might like you better. In fact…” Henry edged closer to whisper in her ear. “We can try to give Arthur a sibling this very night.”

“Henry!” She laughed in spite of herself. “Arthur is right here. He can hear us.”

Henry moved to place a kiss just behind her ear. “But he won’t hear a thing after we put him to sleep.” His breath tickled her skin and sent shivers down her spine. “We’ll keep it quiet.”

Lizzie felt a light touch on her nose. She looked up to find endless streams of delicate snowflakes spiraling down on them. “Look, Henry! It’s snowing! I knew it!”

Henry grudgingly pulled back. “Alright, alright. No need to say  _I told you so._ ”

She reached out a hand, her palm up to receive the gentle caresses of the snowflakes. “It’s snowing, Arthur!” She gently squeezed the baby on her lap. “Do you like it?” As if understanding her meaning completely, her darling boy gave her a merry smile and squeezed back her thumb. In those round blue eyes Lizzie read the wisdom of an old soul. 

“Ouch.” Lizzie turned to find Henry rubbing his right eye.

“What is it?”

“I should’ve worn my glasses today. I think my contacts just froze. Or maybe there’s something in my eye.”

“Here, let me see it.” She took his face in her hands. “Your eye is a bit red but I don’t seeing anything wrong.”

Henry was still blinking repeatedly. “Could you blow it for me?”

She puckered her lips to do as requested, but Henry moved to trap her mouth with his and pulled her into a long kiss. From her lap baby Arthur wiggled himself up to press a hand to her chin. Lizzie couldn’t help chuckling into Henry’s lips. She never knew there was such happiness in this world. 

Down from up above, soft snowflakes landed on their heads like glittering crowns.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *According to wikipedia “Checkmate” comes from the Persian phrase “Shāh Māt”, which literally translates to "the King is helpless" (ambushed, defeated). The more you know.


End file.
